


A Patient Man

by LadyKenz347



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Ministry Ball, NSFW Art, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Content, Throrat Kink, but then they caught the feelings, embedded art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28096299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKenz347/pseuds/LadyKenz347
Summary: Draco Malfoy is fine to wait. He's a patient man, after all, but when Hermione remains oblivious to his advances, he decides it's time to take matters into his own hands.**THIS WORK CONTAINS NSFW ART**
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 41
Kudos: 871
Collections: Completed/Downloaded/Read Works





	A Patient Man

****A PATIENT MAN** **

Draco's eyes continued to twitch towards the clock on the wall. Granger was late. 

She was very late. 

Not that he was a stickler for such things, that was certainly more her hill to die on, but it _was_ rather unlike her. 

Every Friday they had a standing... _appointment._ Granger would arrive at his office by twelve-thirty, after picking at whatever sad, cold, little lunch she deigned enough for the day. And he'd have her naked and ravaged by no later than twelve-thirty-five. If he was being honest, it was the absolute highlight of his week. 

The memory of their first _appointment_ was seared forever into his memory. They'd been arguing, nose to nose, cheeks flushed. And just when he'd been certain she was going to cock back and hit him like she had in their third year, she grabbed him by the suspenders and crushed their mouths together. Everything had been hard and bruising, like a punishment he wanted to repeat every day for the rest of his life. 

At the time, she'd been hot off a break up with some French Quidditch player that the she-Weasel had foisted upon her. From the moment Draco had seen the git, he knew they were a poor match, but it wasn't his business to say anything. So he watched. He watched as she became more flustered, more frustrated. Watched as she grit her teeth when receiving personal owls in her office. Watched as work continued to be the most important thing in her life— even more important than sad little Frenchie. 

Even as he watched the slow breaking of Granger's heart, he'd could’ve never foreseen that she'd choose Draco to be the bad decision after the break-up. Not that he minded. The witch was rife with wild sexual energy and with her busy schedule, she was keen on a hard and fast shag with no commitment. It was fine, really. More than. 

But against his own volition, he started developing feelings for the ridiculous witch. It was abhorrent. He'd stopped scheduling dates with other women, started making excuses to see her outside their standing Friday afternoon appointments. He’d frequent Flourish and Blotts on Saturday afternoons, knowing it was a favorite stop of hers. For fuck’s sake, he even pretended to work late, just so he might catch her in the lift and walk with her to the Floo, twice earning him a late dinner in her company. Granger, being the insufferable witch she was, noticed naught. She kept her nose in the parchment, only looking up when it was time to get fucked into his desk, and then buried herself in work yet again. 

Suddenly, his door flew open and Granger rushed inside, her mane wild and frenzied as she kicked the door shut and started yanking her blouse free from her skirt. "Hi, Malfoy. I only have a few minutes so make it quick." 

Draco rushed to his feet, worry etched into his brow. "Is everything alright?" 

"What?" She paused, her arms over her head and her stomach now on display. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"You're late." 

"Late?" she snorted and draped her pale pink blouse over his chair. "Late for what?"

Throwing his hands up in the air, Draco shook his head. "For our— well, our date." 

Hermione crossed his office and reached for his belt. "What are you on about? Hurry up, I've got a meeting in fifteen minutes." 

Something close to rage flared in Draco's chest and he brushed her hands away. "What are we doing here, Granger?" 

Her eyes darted back and forth. "Um, what do you mean? Is this like a roleplay thing or— " 

"I mean this— " He gestured to the space between them. _"Us."_

"Listen, Malfoy. If you've something you'd like to say, get on with it because honestly, I don't have the time today— " 

His shoulders sagged in defeat. "You really don’t get it, do you?"

She laughed nervously, reaching for his belt again. When he brushed off her attempts, she huffed and took a step back. "What are you bleeding doing, Malfoy? I thought we were on the same page here." 

Draco's eyes narrowed. "And what page, _exactly_ , is that?"

It wasn't like him to care, and really, he didn't. He didn't. All he truthfully cared about was the fact that Hermione Granger had been coming into this office for three months to get her fill, ignored all his advances for something more meaningful, and was now frustrated with him for giving a shit. 

"Malfoy, this is us. We shag on Fridays. What else is there to know?"

Her offhanded phrasing made him gape. "That's all this is? You don't care if I'm seeing someone else? If I'm _fucking someone else?"_ Acid dripped from his tongue, but she seemed unphased. 

"I mean," she paused to wrinkle her nose. "I'd prefer not to know about it, but if you want to _fuck_ someone else, I'm not your girlfriend. I'm not going to try and tell you who you can or can't— " 

Draco lifted his hands to silence her. "Got it, Granger. Listen, I don't have time to see to your orgasm this afternoon. Sorry." 

The apples of her cheeks darkened, and she quickly crossed her arms over her chest. "What?"

"I'm busy. You're late." He gathered a stack of parchments and sat at his desk, flipping the first one idly over. "Good day, Granger." 

The weight of her sneer was palpable, burning into the side of his cheek, but he refused to acknowledge the witch. He ignored her completely as she gathered and donned her blouse, ignored her even further as she wrenched the door open and stomped down the hall. With a flick of his wrist, the door closed tightly and he buried his face in his hands. 

Fine. If the witch wanted to treat Draco like an afterthought, he could certainly repay the favor. 

xXx

Angry wasn't a fitting enough word. Enraged, perhaps. Incensed, definitely. 

The prat was really going to act as if they didn't have a very clear arrangement to see to each other’s needs weekly. It wasn't as though they'd laid out terms, but she came by every Friday after lunch for three bleeding months. Surely, the git had found a pattern. It wasn't her fault that a meeting had run over and then she had another scheduled so shortly after, and the fact that he would— 

It wasn't important. 

Sure, she looked forward to it. It was a wonderful way to relieve stress after a hellish week. But that didn't mean she was beholden to the man. They'd agreed— non-verbally— to keep things between them casual. Over the past few months, she supposed they'd gotten more friendly. Lunches on days that weren't Friday, the occasional run-in at Flourish and Blotts on Saturday afternoon. There had been once when they'd both been hungry after work and had gotten dinner— or maybe it was twice. 

But what did he expect? What had he meant by _‘us_ ’?

There was no _'us'_. There was Malfoy and there was Granger and for the interlude of half an hour, once a week, their bodies sought euphoric release. What was so wrong with that?

Back in her office, she slammed the door shut and began to pace. The audacity, really. 

Furthermore, he had dumped this on her in the middle of the work day without warning. He'd played his stupid Slytherin games, and now she looked like the arsehole. 

Huffing, Hermione sat down at her desk and stared at her calendar, stuffed full with meetings and deadlines. If she'd learned anything from dating Julien, the Keeper for the French National team, it's that her current workload didn't allow for romance. The amount of passive aggressive missives she'd received from the man that she couldn't attend every match or make dinner once a week was ridiculous. After a few months, Julien, it seemed, had had enough and ended things between them. 

Fine enough for her; it wasn't like she thought she'd marry the man. And days later, in an all-out screaming match with Malfoy, the tap of her sexual frustration had been opened, and she nearly assaulted her one-time enemy until he brought her to the brink of insanity splayed out on his desk. He might be an annoying little prat, but Merlin, the man knew her body like someone had given him a map. A brush of his fingers in the lift could bring her to her knees.

It was just as well. If he'd somehow started to develop feelings, it was best that they stop their arrangement. She simply didn't have the time. 

Breathing out a sigh of strangled relief, she straightened her spine and gathered what she needed for the next meeting, ignoring entirely the ache between her thighs that Malfoy ought to be tending to. 

xXx

"You're not bringing a date?" Ginny asked curiously as she eyed an ivory ball gown hanging on the wall of the Twilfitt and Tattings. 

Hermione paused, reeling on her friend with wide, round eyes. "Why would I bring a date? It's a work party." 

Snorting, Ginny moved onto one made of deep indigo and cerulean, embedded with shimmering thread in a smattering of constellations on the flowing skirt. "That's exactly why you _should_ bring a date. Here, try this one."

The gown fluttered down from the wall, and Hermione's breath caught. She wasn't one to normally find joy in things like frilly dresses and parties, but this— this was beautiful. 

"It's an option," she said with a swallow, allowing her fingertips to run along the delicate silver stitching. "Maybe a bit too much for a work party." 

"Why do you keep saying that?" Ginny laughed and pulled the gown into a dressing room. "It's the Minister's Yule Gala, anyone who is someone in London is going to be there. It's not _just_ a work party. You won't be in the atrium, for crying out loud." 

Her mind flittered to Malfoy, visualising what he might be wearing, or how handsome he'd look if he did his hair that way she liked with it pushed back just slightly. It'd been three weeks since their arrangement had ended and as much as she was loath to admit it, she missed him. Shaking her head, she cleared her mind of the intrusive thoughts and slipped into the dressing room and began shedding her clothes. 

The doorbell jingled, announcing a new patron, but Hermione was more concerned with the chiffon and silk kissing her skin, the way it floated over her skin like running water. 

"Hello," a vaguely familiar voice said from out in the shop. "I'm picking up for Greengrass." 

Hermione's ears perked as she slid the zipper up. 

"Of course, one moment." 

Greengrass. There'd been that Slytherin girl their year, but for some reason, Hermione's mind kept chewing on the surname. There was something associated with the name... 

As she stepped out of the curtain, her eyes caught on a beautiful blonde witch with high cheekbones and pristinely white robes. Her nose was perfectly upturned, her brow arched aristocratically. Her pale eyes landed on Hermione and the girl fixed a small, tight smile on her full lips. 

"Miss Granger, how nice it is to see you. And what beautiful robes." 

Something churned in Hermione's belly, a thought that she couldn't quite grasp onto. It wasn't Daphne; she was her younger sister, Astoria. Hermione had met her at a few fundraising events, but nothing that should be causing the discomfort thrashing through her system. 

"Astoria," she nodded. "Hope you're having a nice holiday." 

"You as well." The girl pulled on the finger of her glove until it was off, then repeated it with the other. "Shopping for the Minister's party? It's always such a lovely event." 

Hermione hummed and turned for the short pedestal in front of the mirrors where Ginny was waiting. The dress was stunning, but she could hardly tear her focus from the reflection where Astoria stood near the front, waiting. "Ginny," she whispered lowly. "I can't help but feel like I know her." 

Gin snuck a look and shrugged before realization dawned on her. "She was photographed with Malfoy last year, wasn't she? Witch Weekly did that story on the most eligible bachelor and bachelorette. Wasn't that her?"

The pit in her stomach eased slightly. That was it. They'd merely been chosen as the two most eligible— and strikingly beautiful— people in Wizarding England. Hermione swept her hair over her shoulders and pulled her shoulders back. 

It was nothing. 

xXx

There were few things Draco Malfoy enjoyed more than making an entrance. As a child, he'd been taught patience, and he had it in spades. It was the secret to a good Slytherin, the ability to lay in wait. Before every party, even with the sounds of merriment drifting up to his room, his mother would have him wait until nearly all the guests had arrived so that she could parade him out, grinning at all the folks trying to latch onto her good graces by cooing over her perfect son. 

It was a trait Narcissa had passed onto him. He'd told Astoria to be ready by eight, even though the party began at six-thirty. And when they arrived outside the Minister's mansion, his chest filled with anticipation. After over a fortnight of radio silence from Granger, Draco Malfoy had taken things into his own hands. Honestly, he was a bit tired after the week he’d had. Dates every night this week in extremely public locations, but to no one’s surprise, Granger hadn't even seemed to notice. Her head was stuck so far up her own arse that no wonder she never saw him. 

That was fine. She'd see him tonight. 

Astoria was the best choice to accompany him tonight. She was an old family friend and dating some completely inappropriate working-class bloke that her parents would turn green over. He hadn't necessarily asked Astoria as his date to piss off Granger, but he thought it might be an added bonus. Few things thrilled him as much as seeing an irate Hermione Granger, and while she’d said outright that she didn't care if he saw other people, he was willing to put that theory to the test. 

He'd dressed in his finest robes, ebony black and lined with midnight colored satin. Astoria didn't disappoint, she oozed sexual self-confidence and her dress hung from her slight frame perfectly, hinting at a lithe body under her black glittering gown. Not that he had any intention of seeing or enjoying said body, but it did wonders for his confidence when every bloke in the room choked on their champagne to watch her enter on his arm. 

It didn't take long, maybe only five minutes, before Hermione Granger was spotted— or rather, she spotted them. If he thought the woman at his side was a vision, he'd never looked properly. Because Granger was a goddess, covered in celestial shades with perfectly coiled ringlets draped over her shoulder. The delicate straps hung over her freckled shoulders, the very ones he'd kissed dozens of times. The chiffon wrapped neatly around her waist, a small tie keeping the dress closed, but when she stopped upon seeing them, the skirt of the dress fluttered open, revealing a long, tan leg that Draco wanted to worship over the course of several hours. 

Gods, she was beautiful. 

A tray of champagne floated by and Draco grabbed two, handing one to his date before downing the other in a single swig. 

"Malfoy," Astoria said tightly, "are you quite alright?"

Sucking his cheek between his teeth, he nodded and gestured for their table. "Brilliant." 

xXx

If she'd said it once, she'd said it a hundred times in reference where one Draco Malfoy was concerned. _The absolute audacity._

Here he was strolling into a perfectly pleasant evening with that two-bit slag on his arm. Okay, that was perhaps taking it too far. After all, she seemed the ideal perfect pure-blood princess, exactly the kind of woman Draco should end up with. But still, it was almost cliche, and while Hermione wasn't a woman to fiddle with such ridiculousness, Draco Malfoy deserved to be more than a cliche. 

He'd done so much to climb out the shadows and sins of his father and what? He was going to end up Lord of the Manor and Sacred Twenty-Eight enthusiast anyway? Hermione snorted and downed another glass of champagne. 

She'd expected to see him here, had hoped for it, if she were being honest. But Draco Malfoy hadn't been seen on a date with anyone since the two of them had begun their weekly appointments, and she had no way of predicting he'd choose tonight, of all nights, to make his relationship status known. Her grip tightened around the delicate stem of the flute, and it wasn't until Ginny coughed and glared at her that she realized she was glaring across the room with all the intensity of a heartbroken Lavender Brown. 

She realized how stupid she'd been for attending alone. Ginny had been right. Everyone else had come with a date, and now she was standing amongst her friends feeling entirely put out. Then the worst happened and two by two they all began to shuffle onto the dance floor. Harry had offered half-heartedly, glancing back at his date, Theo Nott, with a distinct longing. Waving him off, she found a shadow next to a pillar in which to lurk. 

As much as she’d tried to avoid it, her gaze drifted time and again to where Malfoy sat. Upon her last look, she startled. It seemed Malfoy had disappeared from his table— good riddance. Maybe he'd left with the tart. Maybe they were engaged. 

Hermione didn't care. Really. 

"Granger?" 

Her nose wrinkled as her shoulders inadvertently lifted towards her ears. Sneaking a peek over her shoulder confirmed her worst nightmare. "Don't you clean up nicely?" 

Forcing a smile on her face, she turned. "Malfoy. Astoria, how nice to see you again so soon." 

The blonde witch hummed. "You as well." Her eyes seemed to catch over Hermione's shoulder and she all out grinned. "Draco, darling— " Hermione's lip curled at the casual term of endearment. "My sister just arrived, would you mind— " 

"You go on ahead. I'll meet you over there." 

"Brilliant." She leaned in to press her cheek to Draco's and then left without so much as another glance in Hermione's direction. 

When Draco fixed his attention on her again, he was beaming. "Having a nice time?"

"Smashing," she sneered, turning back to watch her friends twirl to the festive music. 

"I meant it, you know." 

"Meant what?"

"That you look lovely."

Hermione froze, the very air in her lungs shoving out with a huff. The sides of her throat threatened to close in, trapping all manner of response inside. 

"Come on," he said, stepping in front of her with his hand outstretched. "A dress like that shouldn't be seated on the sidelines." 

Anxiety and desire thrashed in her veins, her gaze drifting to where his date was animatedly talking with her friends. "What about your date?"

He shrugged. "It's just a dance, Granger. Innocent." 

She should have said no. She should have excused herself and thrown her body into the nearest Floo. But she didn't. She placed her fingers in his palm and when his hand tightened around hers, her heart fluttered in her chest. He'd touched her in the most intimate ways possible, had made her scream until she was hoarse, but this was different. 

On the dance floor, he gathered her into his arms, their bodies barely brushing as he led them through a simple dance. She was sure the sight of the two of them dancing together was garnering attention; she could feel the weight of dozens of stares burned into her but she couldn't bring herself to look away from him. 

There was something guarded in his expression, as though he were on the very precipice of something and refused to cross over. Clearing her throat, she finally tore her attention away from him, locking her gaze on some obscure point over his shoulder as they swayed together. 

"I notice you didn't bring a date," he said flatly, and suddenly the feeling of his hand on the curve of her lower back felt explicit, as though everyone was narrowly aware of their sordid history. 

"I notice you did. She's cute." 

Malfoy snorted. "Cute? That's an interesting way to describe Astoria Greengrass." 

Bile inched up her throat, but she remained impassive. "You two look lovely together." 

His fingers flexed around hers. "Thank you." 

It was infuriating that he didn't just simply offer the information she was so desperate for. She didn't want to ask but there was no way she couldn't know. 

"Have you two been dating long? I didn't realize that while we were— well, I didn't realize you'd been dating around." 

"I wasn't," he said seriously, drawing her attention back up to the thunderstorm brewing in his grey eyes. "I'm a patient man, Granger. I was fine to wait. But you made it clear I’d been waiting for nothing.”

Pressure built behind her eyes, and against her wishes, tears gathered at her lashes. "You're putting words in my mouth. You took me by surprise and then kicked me out. I didn't realize you wanted— " 

Astoria swirled into vision, once again ignoring Hermione. "Draco, darling. There you are. Witch Weekly was hoping to grab our photo." 

The words died in Hermione's throat and she quickly stepped away from the safety of Malfoy's embrace. The last thing she wanted to do was cry in a pretty dress over a boy— again. 

"Excuse me," Hermione choked out, lifting the light chiffon in her hands and then rushing through the crowd. She darted for the nearest door, sucking in desperate breaths as she stopped in front of a roaring fire. Except for the light from the fireplace, the room was cast in darkness. It appeared to be a sitting room. Several pieces of expensive furniture dotted the space. 

Behind her, the door swung open, and then swiftly closed, locking loudly. "What are you doing to me, Granger?" Malfoy asked breathlessly. He slipped the button of his jacket free and began to pace.

A tear finally slipped free. "What?"

"You're driving me mental, is what you're doing to me. Do you think, after all you've put me through, I want to be ignore a beautiful, well mannered, date? That I want to be staring at you like some lecherous, pining idiot?" The words were tumbling so quickly from his mouth that Hermione wasn't sure she'd ever seen him so flustered. Malfoy carded a hand through his hair and continued, "You show up, looking like that-" he gestured in her general direction, "-and just expect me to continue to bury everything I feel for you? It's not fair. _You're_ not being fair." 

"Malfoy, I have absolutely no idea what you're even talking about. You never once said you wanted anything more and you know how busy I am. I don't know how to make myself available for a relationship right now because all I do is work. That's why every relationship I’ve had falls apart, okay? Of course, I love spending time with you. I wouldn't have been shagging you if I thought you were vile, but I don't know what you even want, let alone how to give it to you." 

Draco stopped and threw his hands up in the air in defeat. For a long moment, he just stared at her, the space between his brows wrinkled and concerned. "I want _you_ , Granger." 

The confession was simple, but startling. Hermione sniffed and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "You’ve got a funny way of showing it, attending this party with another woman." 

"I mean it, Granger. I want you, but I'm not going to wait for you to figure out if you want me." The moment stretched on between them like a cord pulled too tight, ready to snap. 

Her mind chased a thousand possibilities, and all she could settle on was one resounding truth. "I want you, too, Malfoy. I just don't— " Malfoy crossed the space between them in a few long strides, burying his hands in her long curls and tilting her face up to his. She didn't even have a chance to fill her lungs before his mouth slanted over hers, demanding entry with a long swipe of his tongue. 

He kissed like a man starved, fingers tightening in her curls as the other hand wrapped around her waist and guided her backward. When she could scarcely breathe, their lips parted and he trailed nips and kisses along her throat. "You infuriating witch." 

Malfoy found that spot on her neck that made her keen, and she gripped the fine fabric of his robes and pulled him tighter still. His fingers pulled on the tie around her waist, the chiffon spilling open to bare her body to the air. Growling into her mouth, Draco laid her back against a chaise and settled himself between her thighs. 

"What about the party? And your date?" she breathed heavily, although as his lips wrapped around her nipple and her back arched off the velvet, she found herself caring less and less. 

"Fuck the party." He buried his face in her breasts and then worked his way back up to her mouth. "Fuck Astoria." 

The noises she made weren't exactly human as he ripped his belt free. God, she'd missed him. She wrapped her slender fingers around his silky length, relishing in the pleasured crumple to his features as she gripped him firmly. "We could get caught," she managed as she bit into her lip.

"I locked the door." Malfoy curled a finger in the edge of her knickers and pulled them to the side. 

Giggling, she guided him to her slit, mewling as he sank just the tip inside her. "Don't tease, Malfoy." 

"I thought you liked teasing." He smirked down at her, allowing just another fraction of his cock inside her. "At least you certainly liked teasing me." 

"Please," she begged, reaching for his hips. No sooner than the word left her lips than he slammed into her, filling every inch of her with a hard thrust. She gasped, nails digging into his shoulders as she adjusted to the size of him. Malfoy lifted one of her legs over his shoulder, the flutter of the fabric falling back towards the furniture as he slid out of her to the tip. 

He drove into her again and she cried out, biting into her lip to keep from all-out screaming. 

"You're perfect, Granger," he choked out, fucking her with a hard rhythm that left her breathless. He was relentless, shoving her further up the chaise with each thrust until she felt like her body might very well split open from sheer force. 

A shot of ethereal blue came through the door, a non-corporeal Patronus hovering over her head. Panic overwhelmed her. 

"Draco, it's your mother. Where on earth did you slip off to? Astoria is distraught." 

Hermione's jaw fell open. She was quite sure he'd climb off her and apologize but instead, he gripped her hips harder as he continued pounding into her. She moaned, trying in vain to keep it together. Smirking, he lifted a finger to his lips and continued fucking her. 

"Mother, I needed a moment. I'll meet you at the table shortly." He said it as though he'd never been less bothered. Meanwhile, Hermione writhed underneath him as his fingers massaged her clit. He glanced down at her and winked. "Tell Astoria, to go back to her little boyfriend." 

Draco rolled his hips and she couldn't keep her pleasured noises in. He sent her a chastising look and the finger previously on her clit slid up her body. He pushed his digit in her mouth, and she nearly came just from the overwhelming sensation of it all. She wet it with her tongue, hollowing her cheeks as he kept his careful composure. 

"Why are you acting so strangely? Where are you? I'll come to you." 

Hermione moaned around his finger and he snickered to himself as he moved his hand to her throat, flexing gently until a silent but furious orgasm raced through her. 

"Good girl," he mouthed quietly, then addressed his mother, "I wouldn't come here," he managed, both hands coming up to grip the armrest behind her head as he picked up speed and fucked her until she was biting into the expensive fabric of the Minister's chaise. "Almost done anyway." 

"Draco Malfoy— " 

With a flick of his fingers, the Patronus evaporated, and he grunted his release, spilling inside her as the walls of her cunt fluttered around him. 

He collapsed on top of her, their chests bumping with exaggerated, panted breaths. "Sorry about her," he said into her curls. "She's always such a meddler." 

Warmth flooded her chest where she’d previously felt hollow, and she laughed outright as he buried his face deeper into the crook of her neck.

"So, what now?" she asked, playing with the soft hair at the nape of his neck. "Because I still work too much and you're still impossible." 

Malfoy lifted onto his palms and stared down at her, eyes glittering. "Before all this, I fit into your life just fine. I'll take lunch breaks and a non-coincidental run-ins Granger. Whatever I can get." 

Smiling, she leaned up to kiss him again. "I could probably clear my schedule a night or two, Sunday mornings, too." 

"Brilliant." he said, scrambling to his feet and pulling up his trousers. "Now, will you please escort me to this stupid party? I just mortally wounded my date’s pride and sent her back to her ugly boyfriend." 

Hermione followed him to stand, staring down at her wrinkled dress with a frown. Malfoy picked up the two strings and with great care tied them neatly around her waist, then muttered a charm so the fabric floated easily around her legs again. "Beautiful. Now, let's go turn some heads."

xXx

**A/N: HUGE FLAILING FANGIRL SCREAM to Jaxx-in-a-box for collabing with me. We just happen to be two ladies in love with smut lol While Jaxx slept yesterday I wrote all 5k of this little ditty and when I woke this morning she had spent 5 hours creating the masterpiece to accompany it! We couldn’t wait to share it!**

**Huge thanks to AnneAmmons for the last minute beta read. It would have been a hot mess without her!**

**Thanks for reading/viewing. Cheers!** **  
** **  
** **LK & Jaxx**

  
  



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